


The Order of Merlin

by fancyh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts, Immortal Merlin, Modern Era, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-03-26 04:21:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13850001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancyh/pseuds/fancyh
Summary: Merlin has lived in the shadows of the wizarding world for years, intervening in small ways but unknown to all. After the return of Voldemort during Harry's fourth year, he decides to keep a closer eye on him, taking a post as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. With a scheming Umbridge as High Inquisitor, will Merlin be able to help Harry and resist the growing forces of darkness?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my next planned work. It will hopefully be long and complex, changing the events of The Order of the Phoenix. Therefore, it will take much time and careful consideration, and will not be updated as speedily as other works. If you're reading, be patient! Comments always welcome.

Number 4, Privet Drive looked like a perfectly normal home. The lawn was trimmed but browned after a hot and dry summer, the last rays of sunlight peeking into opened windows in the square house. In fact, there was no sign that what the house contained was anything but normal.

Merlin knew better. He watched through his crystal as one of the occupants stormed out of the house, setting off down the quiet street. His shoulders were hunched, a general air of frustration surrounding him. Merlin clenched his teeth, anger welling inside him on the figure's behalf. For the fifteen year old boy scowling down the street was Harry Potter, and he had every reason to be frustrated. Every day Merlin longed to take him away from this deceptively lovely abode, where his relatives heaped abuse on his slim shoulders. The only thing that stayed his hand was the fact that the Dursleys blood relation offered Harry unparalleled protection and anonymity. If only anyone cared about his psychological wellbeing as well. Add to that the fact that Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix were keeping Harry in the dark, and Harry had just witnessed Lord Voldemort rise months earlier, and Merlin could well understand his foul mood. 

Merlin had felt Lord Voldemort's return like a blade of ice through his heart. The magics of the world had screamed out, twisted and blackened by the horrible acts Tom Riddle had committed against them. Merlin, who had been existing in the outskirts of the wizarding world for centuries, suddenly felt a call to action. No longer could he stand in the shadows, unseen and unknown. The balance of the world had been rent asunder, and it was Merlin's sacred duty to see it restored. He had long been unable to directly intervene in wizarding affairs, the wheels of fate out of reach. The earth demanded that everything follow it's natural course, Merlin's power too readily able to tip the scales. The wild, Druidic magic he possessed had long since faded from the rest of the world, leaving a gentler, weaker form in its place. Wizards and witches today would barely have been considered sorcerers in his day, their power almost nonexistent without the aid of a wand. Wands enabled them to channel their small reserves of magic through a magical core, amplifying it and allowing it to be directed into spells. While Merlin had helped to found modern day wizarding society, he had never truly been a part of it. He stayed on the sidelines, using different identities and allowing the world to pass him by as his existence became the stuff of legend. The world thought him long passed on, a notable figure in their history. No one comprehended that he was not a wizard, but magic itself. He was eternal. Immortal. The raw magic of the world in human form, watching over all with ancient eyes burdened by knowledge.

Now, though. Now Merlin's power was needed to tip the scales. He knew instinctually that he still could not directly intervene, defeating Lord Voldemort and destroying his horcruxes himself. That was still Harry's destiny. His destiny and Lord Voldemort's were tangled like ivy around a tree, with others branching off. His friends, Ron and Hermione. The Order Members. Fellow students. Destinies wove and intertwined in a beautiful and tragic tapestry that made up the fabric of the world, unseen to all. No, what Merlin could do was to give it a push, a guiding hand to begin mending the tear that Voldemort had made in the tapestry. He had begun keeping an eye on Harry through his crystals after Lord Voldemort's resurrection during the Triwizard Tournament four weeks ago, waiting to see what he should do. So far he had found naught but boredom and helpless anger, watching Harry grow more and more frustrated as the summer wore on. It felt like he was holding his breath waiting for something, but he didn't know what.

He prayed for a sign, watching as Harry wandered into the park down the street, sinking into a swing despondently. Harry stayed there for a while, stewing in his thoughts, face set in anger. Finally, just as Merlin was beginning to drift away again, Harry looked up. A group of boys was headed his way, led by none other that Dudley Dursley. However, they simply passed by, unaware of Harry's presence. After a moment Harry got up, trudging in their same direction.

Finally the gang had gone and Harry caught up with Dudley, hailing him with a sarcastic "Hey, Big D!" They exchanged jabs, Merlin cheering silently as Harry goaded Dudley. He had never pretended he wasn't petty, and Dudley was an insufferable bully. They turned down a narrow alley, Dudley gaining ground against Harry as he taunted him cruelly about Cedric's death, Harry getting more and more upset. The situation was getting heated, Harry pointing his wand at Dudley as Dudley yelled at him to  _"point that thing somewhere else!"_ when suddenly, the world went grey. Merlin felt the dark grimness even through the crystal, a feeling of dread creeping up on him. Dudley was whimpering, telling Harry to stop it while Harry looked terrified.

Merlin made a split second decision, apparating into the alley unseen in the confusion. He withdrew the wand he had made to fit in, holding it aloft. He saw Dudley punch Harry, running away and straight into the source of the darkness. Dementors. One glided towards Harry, the boy panicking.

" _Expecto Patronum!"_ The spell fizzled and died, Harry stumbling backwards as the dementor advanced.

Merlin stepped forward. " _Expecto Patronum!"_

Bright silvery light shot from his wand, coalescing into the form of an enormous dragon. It roared, springing towards the dementor with ferocity. The dementor was thrown back, retreating quickly into the night.

Harry stared for a moment in shock, then seemed to collect himself. "This way!" he shouted, running down the alleyway. They found Dudley curled on the ground, a dementor leaning in towards his face. Merlin's dragon flew towards the dementor, silvery flames erupting from the dragon's mouth and crashing into the dementor, hurling it away into the darkness. The dragon flapped its wings, circling once before coming to land in front of Merlin. With a bow of its head, it dissipated into silver mist.

Light returned, the world thrown into color again and the aura of misery lifted. A profound silence settled over the alley, the only sound Dudley's whimpering as he lay curled into a ball. Harry turned to Merlin suspiciously, his wand raised. "You're a wizard."

"I see your powers of observation are intact," Merlin responded dryly.

Harry stared. "Who are you? I mean, thanks for saving us and everything, but what are you doing here?"

Merlin waved a hand. "Oh, I was in the area, saw you were in a bit of trouble. My name is Merlin. Now, speaking of trouble, you're in quite a lot. Dementors, here! We'd best get you and your friend here to safety."

"Right," Harry said, still looking confused. "Wait, did you say your name was Merlin? Like the great wizard Merlin?"

"My mother named me after the bird," Merlin responded blithely. It wasn't a lie.

"Right, sorry." Harry probably rightfully assumed that his mother was a muggle and didn't press. "Erm, would you mind helping me?" He pointed to Dudley, who was still lying limp on the pavement.

Merlin acquiesced, each of them taking one of Dudley's arms around their shoulders as they stowed their wands. Harry wasn't too much shorter than Merlin, his growth spurt having hit leaving him tall and gangly. Merlin had taken on his thirty-year-old appearance, looking exactly the same as he had in Camelot 1500 years earlier, although with a much better haircut. Together they hefted Dudley down the street, the other boy doing nothing to help as he hung half-conscious between them.

As they walked up the garden path of number four, Privet Drive, Harry's Aunt Petunia came out to meet them. She took in the scene with horror, standing aside as they pulled Dudley into the house and deposited him on the sofa. Petunia seemed to recover from her shock and rushed over, stroking a hand over Dudley's forehead as he moaned piteously, sweaty and pale.

"Diddy darling, what happened? Diddy! What's the matter with you? Vernon? Vernon!" she screeched, the man in question suddenly rushing into the room. He shot Harry and Merlin a suspicious look, going over to inspect Dudley.

"What is it, son? What's happened? Did Mrs. Polkiss give you something foreign for tea?"

Why are you all covered in dirt, darling?" Petunia added. "Have you been lying on the ground?"

"Hang on-you haven't been mugged, have you, son?" Vernon questioned, turning to eye Merlin again. "And who are you?" He looked back and forth between him and Harry. "What have you done to my son?" His face was turning purple, mustache twitching.

Merlin stepped forward in front of Harry, shielding him. Before he could speak, an owl swooped in through the window, dropping a letter at Harry's feet before flying back the way it came. Vernon's face turned a deeper shade of purple, sputtering indignantly.

"Owls!" He bellowed. "Owls again!" He turned back towards Harry, pointing an accusatory finger.

 "I knew this had to do with your kind. What did you do to Dudley? Answer me, boy!"

But Harry was already ripping open the letter, his face paling. Merlin tried to calm Vernon. "My name is Merlin. Harry is not at fault. They were attacked by two dementors. Harry and I defeated them, but their effects can linger. Rest assured, Dudley will be fine with a little chocolate and rest."

Petunia paled, her eyes growing wider in her thin face. Vernon looked bewildered.

"A couple of-what's this codswallop?"

"Dementors," Merlin repeated.

"And what the ruddy hell are dementors?" He asked, looking more and more agitated.

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," Merlin replied.

Vernon looked stumped. "Then why did these, er, dementy-whatsits go after my son?"

"I don't know" Merlin explained. "Dudley just happened to be there. Dementors aren't picky about who they kiss."

"Kiss? What the bloody hell do you mean by that?" Vernon yelled.

"Dementors suck all the happiness out of you, filling you with despair and torturing you with your worst memories. Kissing is what they call it when they suck the soul out of your mouth."

Aunt Petunia shrieked softly, looking into Dudley's eyes and shaking him. "His soul?! They didn't take-he's still got his soul, right?"

"Of course," Merlin rushed to reassure. "You would know if they had. Fortunately I was there in time to cast a Patronus, sending the dementors away."

"You-" Vernon pointed at Merlin. "you're one of  _them_."

"Yes," Merlin replied calmly. "I am a wizard, and I saved your son." Leaving Vernon to his shock, he turned to Harry, who was still staring at the letter with an expression of horror on his face. "Harry, what does that say?"

"I've been expelled from Hogwarts," Harry said in a horrified whisper.

Merlin frowned. "Expelled? Whatever for?" He grabbed the letter, reading it.  _We have received intelligence that you attempted to perform the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle...resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts...Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand...presence required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 A.M. on August 12th._

He was taken aback. Expulsion? For trying to defend himself? He hadn't even managed to cast the Patronus charm before Merlin showed up. This was ridiculous. As he contemplated what to do, another owl swooped in, dropping a piece of parchment at Harry's feet. Merlin moved to read it over Harry's shoulder.

_Harry-_

_Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry, and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND._

_Arthur Weasley_

Merlin felt a rush of relief. Dumbledore would straighten this out. Surely they wouldn't expel Harry over something so trivial and in self-defense. He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "Don't worry Harry, I'm sure Dumbledore will sort this out. And I will vouch for you. You have nothing to worry about."

Harry nodded in thanks, still looking pale and uneasy. The Dursleys were watching them in open confusion, huddled around the couch but seeming too cowed to say anything more. Another owl swooped in, another letter bearing the Ministry seal dropping as Harry grabbed it in midair. He ripped it open hurriedly, Merlin once again reading over his shoulder.  _The Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at which time an official decision will be taken. Following discussions with the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further inquiries._

Merlin felt even more relieved. This was good. Surely the hearing would prove that Harry had acted in self-defense. Besides, there was the more pressing issue of what dementors were doing in Little Whinging in the first place.

Before he could verbalize these thoughts, yet another owl flew by, a simple scrap of parchment in its talons.  _Arthur's just told us what happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do._ Merlin assumed this must be from Harry's godfather, Sirius. Harry looked disappointed as he read the message, turning the parchment over as if expecting more.

Vernon finally spoke up, apparently getting over his shock. "What's going on? You said expelled?"

"I don't know," Harry said, sounding frustrated. "There's a hearing."

"Aha!" Vernon said, pointing a finger at Harry. "So you did do something to my son!"

Merlin sighed, exasperated. He pushed Harry behind him, stepping forward towards the large man. "No, I've told you. Harry tried to save Dudley. However, underage magic is considered a crime. Without knowing the circumstances they can't decide whether or not to expel him. The hearing will prove that Harry acted in self-defense, and I came to his aid."

Vernon looked supremely unhappy, brow furrowing as he digested Merlin's words. "I still don't like it," he muttered. "Those things-attacking my son. That boy caused this somehow, I just know it. If he weren't here, none of this would have happened!" Petunia nodded next to him, glaring at Harry as she clutched Dudley to her.

Merlin took a menacing step forward, towering over Vernon as he stared him down. Shadows in the room seemed to lengthen, Merlin's power becoming palpable in the very air. Vernon quailed under his gaze, shrinking back against the couch as Petunia and Dudley clutched each other nervously. "That boy," he said dangerously, "is worth more than all of you combined. He has stood up to Lord Voldemort multiple times, singlehandedly saving the wizarding world before he was even a child. He is braver than any of you, and a better person than you could ever hope to be. You are the only family he has in all this world, his only protection from the multitude who want to kill him, and you treat him with abuse and disdain." He turned to glare at Petunia. "Your sister would be ashamed."

Petunia looked distinctly uncomfortable, trembling under his words, Vernon eyes displaying a mixture of shock and fear. Dudley, who was beginning to come around from his ordeal, looked around wildly as if trying to escape. Merlin composed himself, realizing he had accidentally let his true self slip a bit, if the terrified stares of the Dursleys were any indication. Glancing back, he saw Harry staring at him in abject shock, his mouth hanging open and green eyes wide in disbelief.

Merlin winced, cursing himself for his slip. "Sorry," he said to Harry. "Was that a bit much?"

Harry's mouth snapped shut, shaking his head in surprise. "Erm, no? But, who are you really? How did you know all that? Did you know my parents?"

Merlin hesitated, unsure how to answer his questions. "No, I didn't know your parents personally. But I knew of them. And I know many things. Just know that I'm on your side." He left it at that, hoping that it wasn't too mysterious that it raised questions but vague enough that it would satisfy Harry.

Harry looked suspicious but seemed to decide to trust him, nodding finally. "Right." He looked at Merlin nervously. "Um, what are we supposed to do now?"

"Ah, good question," Merlin said, glad for the change of topic. The Dursleys were still huddled on the couch, looking miserable. "I will write to Dumbledore, letting him know what has happened. Then we will wait for his response. I'm not going to leave you alone until I know you're safe."  _And that includes from the Dursleys,_ he thought. He knew nothing could get Harry inside the house because of the protective spell over it, but that didn't mean the Dursleys wouldn't inflict their own damage.

Harry nodded, looking relieved. "Thank you."

"Of course," Merlin replied. He set about finding a piece of paper and pen, drafting a letter to Dumbledore.

_To Professor Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,_

_I am writing in regards to an incident that took place today, at approximately nine this evening in Little Whinging, Surrey. Doubtless you have heard by now that Harry Potter attempted an act of underage magic. I was chief witness to this event, which entailed thusly. Harry and his cousin were attacked by two dementors, while Harry attempted to cast a Patronus, of which he was not successful at first. Witnessing this unfold, I quickly stepped in, casting my own Patronus and driving the dementors away. Both Harry and his cousin are safe in the Dursley's home, where I am now residing until such time as I hear from you. I believe this event was deeply troubling in its implications, and do not wish to see Harry harmed or expelled. I am willing to appear at his hearing to corroborate his story, and to plead for his acquittal of any blame. Harry is understandably distraught, and I believe it would be advisable to move him to a safer location in light of this attack. I would be much honored to help in any way possible._

_It is unfortunate that our first correspondence had to be about such a horrific event, as I had been hoping to contact you previously regarding a position at your school. I understand that the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts is open, and would like to submit my application for the position. This event has only solidified my resolve. I wish to help keep the students safe after the events of last term, which have gone unacknowledged by the wizarding community. If you are agreeable, I shall send my credentials forthwith and submit myself to an interview._

_I hope to hear from you soon regarding the above, and your advice on how to proceed. I shall stay with Harry until I am sure that he is safe, and I have solicited your response._

_Sincerely,_

_Merlin Evans, Professor of Magic_

Satisfied, he whistled, his eyes glowing. After a minute his owl Archimedes came fluttering through the window, landing in front of him. Rolling the parchment, he tied it to Archimedes' leg securely. "Professor Dumbledore," he instructed, Archimedes giving him a fond peck before flying away.

He had noted himself as a Professor hoping to give credence to his tale. It wasn't really a lie, except his last name. That he had made up, close enough to Emrys and reminding him of Lily Evans, who had sacrificed herself to protect Harry. He promised himself that he would do the same. The Professor part was true. On a whim, he had taught Magic History at Durmstrang a few years ago before slipping away again into obscurity. It was just the thing he needed to insinuate himself into the fight against Voldemort. The idea had taken hold, growing in its firmness. _He could teach at Hogwarts_. It would allow him to watch over Harry and be right in the middle of the action. The Defense Against the Dark Arts post was empty after the fiasco of last year with Mad-Eye Moody, and he hadn't heard anything about a replacement. He would become the new DADA professor. He hoped he could convince Dumbledore to let him teach, but it was easy enough for him to magic fake documents and credentials. With his real prior post at Durmstrang, he was hoping that Dumbledore might overlook any misgivings he had and hire him for the job.

That done, he availed himself of the Dursley's kitchen, proceeding to make soup while they looked on in nervous confusion. He managed to scrounge up some chocolate from what was evidently Dudley's stash and gave it to Harry and Dudley to disperse any lingering effects of the dementors. When the soup was done he brought it to the table, spooning it into bowls. The Dursleys hesitantly joined, eating their soup in strained silence. By the time everyone was finished, it was late into the night. Merlin sent Harry off to bed, promising to wake him if Dumbledore wrote. The Dursleys seemed uncomfortable with his continuing presence but didn't protest, simply barricading themselves in their bedroom. Merlin sat on the couch to wait, his mind spinning with a million thoughts.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was woken an hour later by Archimedes gently tapping him with his break. He yawned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as Archimedes blinked up at him, a letter tied to his feet.  _Dumbledore,_ he remembered. Hastily, he untied the letter, breaking the seal and scanning the contents.

_Professor Evans,_

_I am eternally grateful to you for coming to Harry's aid. It is indeed concerning that dementors should be found in Little Whinging, and I should think quite fortunate that you happened to be there. I had been having a squib, one Arabella Figg who lives just down the way, keep an eye on Harry this summer, but it seems she was not aware of what transpired. May I inquire as to the nature of your business in the area? I do not mean to be rude, but it is surprising that a wizard should be found in a Muggle village, and one home to Harry Potter at that. I hope you will forgive me for my suspicions. If you are indeed sincere, as I believe you are, then I would be most delighted to make your acquaintance. Meet me at The Three Broomsticks in London at noon, where I will discuss this with you in more detail. In the meantime, I will inform the Ministry that you will bear witness at the hearing on August 12th. In regards to Harry, I will be sending people to get him and take him to a safe place within a few days. He is safe as long as he remains in the house, so you are free to leave if you so wish. Hopefully I will see you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

He sighed in relief. He was glad Dumbledore was being so cautious, as he would have been concerned if he immediately trusted Merlin. After all, it could all be a ploy to get into his confidence and find the location of the safe house. Someone could have sent the dementors after Harry, pretended to save him, and then used that to gain a job at Hogwarts. Of course Merlin knew his motives were pure, but to anyone else the situation looked suspicious. He stroked Archimedes before shooing him out the window to hunt. Then he laid back down, trying to get some sleep before morning came.

Merlin was up by midmorning, sore after sleeping on the couch. He ate breakfast with Harry, the Dursleys whispering furiously in the next room. He had given Harry Dumbledore's letter, wanting to be as honest and straightforward with him as he could. Gods knew everyone else was treating Harry like a young child, not telling him anything. Merlin understood the desire to keep the young boy safe, but felt keeping secrets from him would only do more harm than good. Harry had already faced Lord Voldemort. He wasn't exactly any other child.

As it approached noon, he prepared to depart, shooting the Dursleys a meaningful glance. "I'll be back," he said, a warning not to try anything.

Vernon's face turned a shade darker but he held his tongue, looking disgruntled. Dudley picked at his breakfast, every so often shooting Harry nervous glances. Petunia sat ramrod straight in her chair, her face carefully unaffected as she stabbed a piece of toast with a fork.

Merlin disapparated with a crack, appearing outside Hogsmeade. Straightening his black robes, he strode through the village until he reached The Three Broomsticks, sign clanking in the wind. He entered, the door falling shut softly behind him as he looked around. It was fairly empty, the only occupants a few people eating lunch and one Albus Dumbledore, sitting in the back corner unobtrusively as he watched the door. Merlin made his way towards him, weaving around the tables. He saw Dumbledore's blue eyes widen in mild surprise behind his half-moon spectacles as he took him in, evidently correctly surmising who he was.

He rose as Merlin neared, extending a hand. "Professor Evans, I presume?"

Merlin nodded, shaking his hand. "Pleased to meet you at last. I've heard great things."

"Thank you," Dumbledore replied, gesturing at him to sit down. "I'm afraid I can't say the same about you. You are quite unknown, Merlin Evans. I'm sure I've never heard your name before, and such a unique one at that."

"Ah yes," said Merlin, taking a seat as Dumbledore did the same. "My mother named me after the bird. I'm afraid she had no idea of the significance of the name."

Dumbledore seemed to relax infinitesimally, eyes twinkling. "I see. Still, it brings us to the question of who you are. You said you were a Professor. Where did you teach?"

"Durmstrang," Merlin replied honestly. "I taught magic history there for a couple years, but I've always had a knack for defense."

Dumbledore nodded serenely, stroking his long beard. "Interesting. What about other years?"

"I traveled for a bit," Merlin said. "I spent a year in the Romanian dragon sanctuary." Being around dragons-even the weaker, less intelligent breed of today-had always soothed Merlin, and he always made sure to visit the dragon sanctuary as often as possible over the years.

Dumbledore looked contemplative. "May I inquire as to where you went to school? You said you taught at Durmstrang, yet your accent is definitely English. However, I can't say I remember you at Hogwarts." He peered at Merlin intently, blue eyes twinkling.

"Right," Merlin said. "Right." This was the hardest part. He could forge all the documents he wanted, but personal remembrances were something he couldn't fake. Or,  he could, but he didn't like to do that.

"I was homeschooled," he explained, keeping his voice level. Again, not really a lie. "Very reclusive family." He thought of Balinor in his lonely cave. Definitely true. "We lived in a small village in England. My mother was a muggle and my father was a wizard, although he had left before I was born. I was taught by my uncle, who was a distinguished healer in the area and had vast stores of knowledge. He taught me almost everything I know."

Dumbledore looked surprised but thoughtful. "There have been a few students who homeschooled over the years. However, they still have to pass their O.W.L.S. Do you have your certificate of completion?"

Merlin nodded, pulling the form from his bag. It was forged, although he certainly could pass his O.W.L.S at any time. He was the founder of modern wizardry, for gods sake. He also pulled out his wizard identification, with his picture, date of birth (fake), and status listed as "Professor of Magic, Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning." He handed them to Dumbledore. The O.W.L.S form listed his name, Merlin Evans, and showed a near perfect score with a stamp of authenticity on it. Near, because perfect would be too suspicious. 

Dumbledore perused the documents, waving his wand over them to authenticate it. Any other wizard forgery would never pass, but of course Merlin was far above even the most talented of wizards. He was called the Prince of Enchanters for a reason. 

Satisfied, Dumbledore handed the documents back to Merlin. "Everything seems in order. Of course I will be contacting Durmstrang later to inquire about your time there. Wonderful marks, Mr. Evans. I can see you were quite the pupil."

"Of course," Merlin replied. "And thank you."

Dumbledore sat back, giving Merlin a meaningful look. "Now that that is out of the way, we should continue this conversation in my office."

Merlin nodded, moving to get up. He followed Dumbledore through Hogsmeade and into the castle, arriving at the entrance to Dumbledore's office. The castle seemed to hum in welcome, the familiar magic stretching out to meet Merlin.

"Chocolate frog," Dumbledore said, and the entrance slid open.

They walked up the spiral staircase until they reached his office, pushing through the door. Inside, various gadgets and trinkets littered the room, pictures lining the walls. On a perch on Dumbledore's desk sat a beautiful Phoenix, red and resplendent. Dumbledore smiled at the bird, going over to stroke his head before sitting behind the desk.

"Ah yes, this is Fawkes," he said, gesturing to the phoenix.

Something about Fawkes reminded Merlin poignantly of Arthur, the red plumage flowing like the capes of Camelot and the stature proud and elegant. They would both die only to be reborn from the ashes. Merlin smiled, reaching out a hand to Fawkes. The bird blinked at him before pushing its head against his hand, allowing him to stroke the soft feathers.

When he looked up, Dumbledore was staring at him searchingly. "I've never seen Fawkes take to someone so fast."

Merlin shrugged, taking a seat. "I'm good with magical creatures."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. He was silent a moment longer, studying Merlin before speaking. "I have decided to trust you, Merlin Evans. There's just- something about you." He leaned forward. "Do not break that trust."

Merlin nodded seriously, meeting his eyes. "I swear on my father's grave that I won't."

Dumbledore sat back, looking immensely relieved. "Good. Now, tell me about what happened last night."

So Merlin did. He told him that he had first felt the dementors passing by his house and, suspicious of their purpose, followed them to Little Whinging where he came upon them attacking Harry and Dudley. He intervened, immediately recognizing Harry, and thus the following events had transpired. Dumbledore seemed to accept his explanation, nodding worriedly at parts.

When he had finished, Dumbledore steepled his fingers, his brow furrowed. "This is most worrying," he said gravely. "Dementors, attacking in the middle of a Muggle town."

Merlin nodded. "That was why I followed them. I thought it strange, and with recent events worried that they may have gone to Lord Voldemort's side."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "You are not afraid to say his name?"

Merlin shook his head. "A name only has power if you give it power."

Dumbledore looked impressed. "Very wise, Professor Evans. And you are right to be worried. Sadly, the rest of the wizarding world doesn't seem to share our fears."

"No, it is very unfortunate. Now that he has risen again, we will need all our resources to fight him. I plan on being part of the fight, even if no one else is."

Dumbledore nodded. "We need more people like you. I would be greatly heartened to offer you the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. We would just need to convince the ministry. They are set on instating their own teacher to keep an eye on me."

"Oh, don't worry," Merlin said, eyes hardening. "I can deal with the Ministry."

"Be that as it may, it will be difficult to convince them, especially after the hearing. Your standing up for Harry will not go over well with them."

Merlin scoffed. "Stepping in to defend a teenaged wizard from dementors is considered wrong? I fear for the state of wizardry."

"Where Harry and Voldemort are involved, I'm afraid no one sees reason."

"I know," Merlin said, sighing. "I can play the part of dutiful teacher for the Ministry, don't worry."

Dumbledore nodded. "It may be best to submit memory evidence to back up your tale. I'm sure the Ministry will try to deny the presence of the dementors. Either they were acting without their permission or someone sent them after two children. Either way, it doesn't reflect favorably on them." 

Merlin nodded. He could submit the memory from when he landed in the alley to after driving the dementors away. It would fit with what he told Dumbledore, and prove the existence of the dementors. "I would be happy to do that."

"Wonderful. I should take it now," Dumbledore said. "Then there can be no question of tampering or distortion by the time the hearing comes. I would also like to see it first as well." He got up, moving to a wall where he opened a cabinet. A large silver dish emerged, its contents shining. He turned to Merlin. "If you would?"

Merlin nodded, drawing his wand and crossing over to the Pensieve. Touching his wand to his temple he concentrated on the memory, drawing it out in a silver strand. When complete, he directed it into the Pensieve, where it swirled around the dish. Stepping back, he nodded to Dumbledore, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. Dumbledore then drew his wand, swirling the contents of the Pensieve before bending down and touching his face to the surface.  

The world spun and suddenly they were back in the alley, watching the events unfold.

 

_The world was dark and cold. Two dementors advanced, long hands reaching from under their cloaks. Merlin withdrew his wand, holding it aloft as he moved down the alley unseen. Dudley punched Harry, running away and straight into one dementor. The other glided towards Harry, the boy panicking._

_"Expecto Patronum!" The spell fizzled and died, Harry stumbling backwards as the dementor advanced._

_Merlin stepped forward. "Expecto Patronum!"_

_Bright silvery light shot from his wand, coalescing into the form of an enormous dragon. It roared, springing towards the dementor ferociously. The dementor was thrown back, retreating quickly into the night._

_Harry stared for a moment in shock, then seemed to collect himself. "This way!" he shouted, running down the alleyway. Dudley was curled on the ground, the other dementor leaning in towards his face. Merlin's dragon flew towards it, silvery flames erupting from the dragon's mouth and crashing into the dementor, hurling it away into the darkness. The dragon flapped its wings, circling once before coming to land in front of Merlin. With a bow of its head, it dissipated into silver mist._

The memory faded, and Merlin and Dumbledore were back in his office as the Pensieve grew calm. After a second, Dumbledore turned to Merlin.

"A dragon Patronus? That is most extraordinary. I can't say I've ever heard of one before."

Merlin shrugged, trying to play it off. He had forgotten that a dragon Patronus would most likely draw attention. "I've always loved dragons. As I said, I'm good with magical creatures."

"Hmm," was the noncommittal response. He studied Merlin curiously, as if trying to figure him out. Merlin shifted under the scrutiny, praying that Dumbledore moved on. It seemed his prayers were answered as Dumbledore finally responded.

"Well, I should say thank you. Without you, we might have lost Harry. Hopefully this will be enough to convince the Ministry of the events."

Merlin gave a dip of his head in response. "I'm glad. Whatever I can do to help."

"Well," said Dumbledore. "What do you know about the Order of the Phoenix?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter! Harry Potter and Merlin belong to J.K. Rowling and the BBC respectively.

Things moved quickly after that. Merlin was recruited into the Order of the Phoenix by Dumbledore, who told him everything he could about what they were doing. Apparently Voldemort was trying to build up his army unobtrusively and secure a weapon after his return that spring didn't go to plan, Harry surviving to bear witness. The Order was trying to convince as many people as possible that He was back and thwart his plans, although it was hard when Cornelius Fudge continued to insist He wasn't. Tonks and Arthur Weasley were acting as spies inside the Ministry, and Kingsley Shacklebolt was feeding them wrong information on Sirius's whereabouts from his role as head of his capture. What Voldemort wanted most of all was to get inside the Ministry and get ahold of a prophecy concerning him and Harry. The Order was making sure that the Ministry was well guarded and every precaution taken.

It was decided that Harry would be moved to its headquarters, Grimmauld Place, for the rest of the summer. The house was owned by Harry's godfather, and his friends Ron and Hermione were already there. After returning to the Dursleys to inform Harry, Merlin accompanied him to Grimmauld Place and attended his first Order meeting before returning home. He could tell that Harry was frustrated by the lack of information from everyone around him, but was grateful to Merlin for being there for him. Merlin always tried to be as upfront with Harry as possible, knowing that although it was understandable to want to protect the boy they would only make things worse by leaving him in the dark. This was a point of contention with Dumbledore, who firmly believed that Harry would be better off not knowing anything. He had not even told Merlin of Harry's connection to Voldemort, which Merlin could feel like a silvery strand connecting the two, part of Voldemort's soul firmly lodged in Harry. He knew that now that Voldemort was back to strength, the connection would grow stronger, Harry unaware of the reason for his strange dreams and feelings. If Voldemort became aware of their connection he would use it to exploit Harry and learn all he could through him. He felt it was crucial to tell Harry this and train him in Occlumency, but Dumbledore seemed determined to mitigate the effects of the connection by simply keeping Harry ignorant and avoiding him so that Voldemort wouldn't be able to learn anything. It was frustrating.

As the summer progressed Dumbledore continued to be discredited, Fudge fearing that he was after his job and the Daily Prophet continuing to spread lies and slander. Dumbledore was voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards and demoted from Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and they were even talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class. That one offended Merlin, as it was his award, and he wanted to strangle whoever had proposed that. What would they all think if they knew the  _actual_ Merlin was on Dumbledore's side? The thought made him smile grimly.

The weeks passed in this manner, Merlin popping in every so often to attend Order meetings and check on Harry. He was soon being invited to dinner by the Weasleys, who took to him immediately. Mrs. Weasley in particular seemed set on fattening him up, exclaiming that he was  _"too skinny!"_ and  _"what have you been eating?"_ as she fussed over him and pushed second helpings on him. He sometimes helped them in their war against the house, which they called "cleaning," which had a tendency to get extremely dangerous as the house fought back with a vengeance. Merlin often found himself cursing the Blacks, not only for their horrible pureblood ideals but also awful taste in just about everything and penchant for dangerous household items.

Soon enough the hearing rolled around, Harry looking pale and wan as he picked at his toast. Tonks and Lupin were sitting around the table as well, Tonks yawning as she struggled to stay awake after a sleepless night on night duty. Mrs. Weasley fussed over Harry and fluttered around in her purple dressing gown, smoothing Harry's T-shirt and combing his hair. Mr. Weasley was wearing a horrid combination of pin-striped trousers and bomber jacket as he and the others attempted to reassure Harry. Harry looked like he would rather be anywhere else. Finally it was time to go, everyone saying their goodbyes and uttering words of support as Arthur, Merlin, and Harry rushed out the door. They were walking in with Mr. Weasley on his way to work in the Ministry, opting to arrive via non-magical means. They took the Underground to the center of London, finally exiting and walking down the narrow streets until they arrived at a nondescript looking telephone box. Mr. Weasley dialed the code and a prim voice answered.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Er...Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, here with Harry Potter and Merlin Evans, who have been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing..."

"Thank you" the voice interrupted cooly. "Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

Three silver badges rattled their way down the coin chute, coming to a stop at the end. Each bore their name and reason for attending.

The voice continued. "Visitor to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

With that the box shuddered, sinking slowly into the ground. When it finally stopped, they had arrived at a long hall elegantly decorated in gleaming wood and gold designs with fireplaces lining the sides through which witches and wizards were arriving and departing. A splendid fountain rested halfway down the hall, with the figures of a wizard, a witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house elf in various poses. Water sprouted from strategic points in fountains, falling into the pool at the bottom with a soft tinkling sound. They walked past the fountain in the crowded hall, making a path for the security desk. Arthur gestured for them to step forward.

"I'm escorting these two," Mr. Weasley said. 

The bored-looking wizard nodded.

"Who wants to go first?" he questioned, sounding entirely uninterested in the answer. 

Merlin stepped forward, wanting to put Harry at ease. The wizard looked him up and down disinterestedly before producing a thin rod and passing it up and down his front and back. The rod flashed alarmingly and emitted a high beeping noise, the wizard looking surprised. 

He raised his wand. " _Revelio._ "

Nothing happened, Merlin looking the same as ever after the revealing spell meant to expose spells and enchantments.

The guard sighed. "Arms out."

Confused, Merlin did as he was told. The guard then gave him a thorough pat down, shaking his head when he didn't find anything.

"Blasted thing is always going haywire. You're fine."

Ah. Merlin winced internally. His high levels of pure magic probably set off any sensors designed to detect magical objects or enchantments.

The guard put down the rod, holding out his hand. "Wand," he said.

Merlin withdrew his wand, passing it to the wizard, who dropped it onto a brass dish that looked like one end of a scale. It vibrated, and a slip of parchment shot out the end. The wizard tore it off, reading the writing on it monotonously. 

"Twelve inches, English oak, dragon-heartstring core, been in use for..." he stopped, looking incredulous. "1000 years?"

Ah. Again, Merlin hadn't prepared for this. He had made his wand a thousand years ago at the founding of Hogwarts in order to fit in with this new type of magic-users. The dragon-heartstring core had been from Aithusa after she died, the English oak taken from the forest outside of Camelot. While he didn't actually need it to cast spells, it had great sentimental value and was the only wand that could channel his power without splitting apart. He had been out of society too long and forgotten all the small waysin which he had to conceal his identity.

He cleared his throat. "A mistake, obviously. I've had this wand for almost twenty years."

The wizard nodded, evidently accepting his explanation. No one in their right mind would actually believe his wand was a thousand years old.

"It seems everything is going wrong today." He peered at Merlin suspiciously but seemed to decide to let it go, crossing out "1000" and scribbling a "20" on the piece of parchment before impaling it on a small spike adorning the desk.

"I keep that, you get this back," he added, thrusting the wand at Merlin before gesturing at Harry to step up. 

"Thank you," Merlin replied, relieved to be out of the line of questioning. He chided himself for not thinking about this. Did he think he could just walk into the Ministry unmolested? He had been too focused on Harry's trial and the Order to worry about keeping his cover intact and almost been exposed. The great Merlin, he thought. Almost brought down by a security guard.

Harry's inspection went quicker, the rod staying silent and dim, the scale rattling off the correct measurements. The guard looked at Merlin again suspiciously, obviously thrown by the fact that both pieces of equipment were now working perfectly. Merlin tried to maintain an innocent expression, staring back guilelessly. Finally, Harry was done, wand returned to his hands, and the guard turned to Merlin. 

"What did you say your name was?" he asked. Suddenly his eyes flicked to Harry's badge and his eyes widened. "Hang on..."

"Thank you, Eric," said Mr. Weasley firmly, moving to steer Harry away. Merlin grabbed Harry's shoulder and propelled him down the hall, Mr. Weasley on the other side.

They walked through gates and filed into the lift on the other end of the hall, witches and wizards packed in around them. It stopped several times at different floors, gradually emptying of people. Finally, it stopped at the floor that included the Improper Use of Magic Office, the lift empty except for Arthur, Merlin, and Harry.

Mr. Weasley stepped forward. "Well, this is me. Remember, the hearing is at 10:00 in old Courtroom Ten. You know how to get there." He looked at Merlin significantly, gesturing with his head at Harry. "Take care of him."

"I will," Merlin said solemnly, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder.

He nodded. "Good luck." 

"Thanks," said Harry nervously.

Mr. Weasley exited the lift, the doors clanging shut behind him. The lift continued to descend, finally coming to a rattling stop.

"Department of Mysteries," said the voice from the telephone booth.

The corridor they walked through was bare with no windows and no doors on either side. Partway down they turned into an opening on the left and went even further down a flight of stairs to another corridor that was even grimmer than the first and reminded Merlin of the dungeons of Camelot. He scanned the heavy wooden doors as they passed, looking for their number.  _Seven, eight, nine,...ten!_

They stopped in front of the door, Harry positively vibrating with nerves next to Merlin. Merlin looked over at him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"Ready?" he asked.

Harry nodded feverishly, taking a deep breath. Merlin turned the heavy iron door handle, stepping inside the courtroom as Harry followed.

The courtroom was every inch a dungeon, with torches set in the imposing stone walls and benches lining the room. The highest benches in the middle were already filled, the previous chatter dying away as they entered the room. As they drew near Merlin's eye was caught by the heavy chair in the middle of the room, chains wrapped around its arms. He felt a swell of rage. Harry was a fifteen-year-old boy, not a hardened criminal! 

"Take your seat," a booming voice proclaimed. 

Harry shot Merlin a wide-eyed look, obviously noting that there was only one chair. Merlin sighed internally, hating Fudge more and more every second. With a flick of his wand, he conjured up a nice blue armchair next to it, seeing Fudge's eyes narrow.

"And who are you?" Fudge questioned as Harry gingerly sat down on the edge of his seat.

"Merlin Aurelius Evans. I'm here as a witness for the defense." He sank into the armchair, affecting an air of nonchalance.

Fudge raised an eyebrow, chuckling. " _Merlin?_ Is that your real name?"

Merlin stared at him coldly. "That is the name my mother gave me."

Fudge looked uncomfortable. "Well, why don't you-go sit on the side, with everyone else."

"I'm fine here, thanks," Merlin said, crossing his legs as he leaned back in the chair.

Fudge looked extremely peeved, his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Fine," he forced out, the word sounding strangled.

Damn him if he thought he was leaving Harry alone in front of them. As he looked around, he noticed that the benches in front of them were filled with around fifty witches and wizards in plum-colored robes embroidered with a silver W on the chest. In the front and center row was the insufferable Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. He recognized Amelia Bones on the Minister's left, looking severe with her short gray hair and monocle, while another witch he didn't know sat to his right.

Fudge began speaking, voice hard and eyes unforgiving. "Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August, into offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." He took a breath. "Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister of Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Court Scribe, Percy Ignatius Weasley, witness for the defense Merlin Aurelius Evans-"

"-Additional witness for the defense, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," came a voice from the other end of the room. Dumbledore strode into view, midnight-blue robes sweeping the floor and face set in a placid expression. He came to stand next to Harry, staring at Fudge with an implacable expression. Mutters broke out around Merlin, some positive while others decidedly not as Fudge's face turned a shade of puce.

"Ah," he said. "I see you're, er, here."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Yes-well-I suppose we'll need another chair-I-Weasley, could you-?"

"Not to worry, not to worry," Dumbledore said pleasantly. With a flick of his wand he conjured an identical chair to Merlin's on Harry's other side, sitting down and steepling his fingers as he stared at Fudge with polite interest. The Wizengamot continued to mumble, Fudge's expression becoming even more flustered as he tried to regain control.

"Yes," he said again, shuffling his notes. "Well then. So. The charges. Yes." He withdrew a piece of parchment and with a breath began to read.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, attempt a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction for Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy.

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge asked, glaring at Harry.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, but-"

"And yet you attempted a Patronus Charm on the night of the second of August?" said Fudge.

"Yes, but-"

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, but-"

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, but-"

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

" _Yes,"_ said Harry, but-"

"But I was the one who conjured the Patronus," Merlin said coldly, interrupting the diatribe.

There was a moment of silence before muttering echoed through the room, Fudge looking dumbstruck. Apparently he had only thought Merlin was a bystander. Merlin continued, thoroughly done with this entire farce.

"Harry merely attempted one. I successfully conjured a Patronus in full knowledge of the fact that I was in a Muggle-inhabited area, in front of a Muggle. Why are you not accusing me instead?"

"W-well," sputtered Fudge, recovering from his shock. "I suppose we should be. You admit to this?" 

"Of course," Merlin replied. "I only did it because of the dementors."

There was a stunned silence.

"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a beat, raising her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that I came upon two dementors attacking Harry and his cousin in an alleyway."

Fudge smirked, looking around the Wizengamot. "And you would be prepared to swear to that under Veritaserum?"

"There's no need," Dumbledore interjected calmly. "Merlin has already submitted memory evidence collected the day after the events."

Fudge's face slackened, staring dumbly at Dumbledore for a moment. The he pulled himself together, affecting a haughty expression. 

"Well, let's see it then. And trust we will be testing it for tampering." He glared at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded serenely, pulling a vial from his pocket. With a wave of his wand, a small orb appeared in midair, it's surface made of swirling white marble. Dumbledore tipped the vial over the orb, the silvery contents flowing down and around it until it was encased. Then, suddenly, light shot from the orb as a three-dimensional image formed in the middle of the courtroom. In it, Merlin watched the memory unfold again, shocked gasps and mutters punctuating the recording.

When it ended the image receded and the memory strands were waved back into the vial with a flick of Dumbledore's wand, the orb disappearing. The Wizengamot all wore identical expressions of stunned disbelief, several staring at Merlin.

Amelia Bones leaned forward, pinning Merlin with her stare. "You have a dragon Patronus?" She sounded awed.

"Er, yes," Merlin said, shifting uncomfortably. 

Madam Bones stared for a moment longer, shaking her head. "Incredible. Just incredible."

Fudge sputtered. "Incredible? You actually believe this tale? He's obviously trying to make himself look like some sort of hero, playing into Harry's ridiculous story. And a dragon patronus? I've never heard of such a thing."

Madam Bones was still looking at Merlin curiously. "Well, that's easy to prove. Cast a Patronus right now and we'll see."

Fudge now looked like a cat who had caught the canary. "Yes, Mr. Evans, let's see it." He leaned back, a smug smiled on his face as if fully expecting Merlin to be caught in a lie.

Merlin simply quirked an eyebrow, standing and withdrawing his wand. He pushed up the sleeves of his robe with deliberate slowness, staring at Fudge the entire time. He took a deep breath, drawing on his happiest memories.

" _Expecto Patronum."_

The dragon burst from the tip of his wand, making a lap around the courtroom. Without the intense action of the attack its form was easier to see, glowing a brilliant white just as it had in life. It was Aithusa, after Merlin had nursed her back to health following Morgana's death. His Patronus was a miniature version of what she had been at the peak of her life, white and gleaming and beautiful. However, her imprisonment had left lasting scars. As she circled the room slowly there was a faint limp to her steps, legs slightly twisted and malformed and shoulders caved in. She had never been able to speak aloud, her vocal cords damaged and underdeveloped. However, she had been able to communicate with Merlin through mind-speech, and had been his closest companion for 500 years. Her real incarnation had died a thousand years ago with her head in Merlin's lap, the last relic of a golden age.

As Merlin looked up he saw the Wizengamot watching in awe, tracing Aithusa's path around the room with wide eyes. Aithusa came to a stop in front of Merlin, facing the Wizengamot.

"Incredible," Madam Bones whispered. She studied the dragon intently. "It doesn't look like any dragon I've ever seen. And, it-" she leaned closer, "-it looks injured.."

The dragon faded into wisps of silver, breaking the spell. Madam Bones looked startled by the sudden disappearance. She straightened up, blinking at Merlin.

"I must say I've never seen anything like this. Who did you say you were again?"

"Merlin Evans. I was a professor at Durmstrang."

"Oh." She nodded. "Do you work with dragons?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes. I spent a year in the Romanian dragon sanctuary. And my father worked with dragons as well."

"Interesting," she said. "Very interesting."

Fudge interjected, looking annoyed. "Yes, yes, it's all very fascinating. Can we get back to the hearing?"

"Right, of course," Madam Bones said, looking surprised. "The hearing."

"That didn't prove anything except that he can conjure a Patronus. The rest of the story is quite absurd," Fudge scoffed.

"Oh, I don't know," Madam Bones responded. "The memory appears quite real. And I can't imagine why either of them would say they were there if they weren't. Why would they want to be put under investigation?"

"But dementors wandering into a Muggle suburb and just  _happening_ to come across a wizard?" Fudge snorted. "The odds on that must be very, very long, even Bagman wouldn't have bet-"

"Oh, I don't think any of us believe the dementors were there by coincidence," Dumbledore said lightly.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Fudge said icily.

"It means that I think they were ordered there."

"I think we might have a record of it if someone had ordered a pair of dementors to go strolling through Little Whinging!" Fudge snarled.

"Not if the dementors are taking orders from someone other than the Ministry of Magic these days," Dumbledore argued calmly. "I have already given you my views on this matter, Cornelius."

"Yes, you have," Fudge said, "and I have no reason to believe that your views are anything other than bilge, Dumbledore. The dementors remain in place in Azkaban and are doing everything we ask them to."

"Then," said Dumbledore, "we must ask ourselves why somebody within the Ministry ordered a pair of dementors into that alleyway on the second of August."

There was another profound silence before the witch on Fudge's right leaned forward. She had an unsettling gleam in her beady eyes, her appearance toad-like and malevolent.

"The Chair recognizes Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister," said Fudge.

In a high, simpering voice the witch spoke. "I'm sure I must have misunderstood you, Professor Dumbledore," she said innocently. "So silly of me. But it sounded for a teensy moment as though you were suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had ordered an attack on this boy!"

She gave a high, fake-sounding laugh that was echoed by a few other members of the Wizengamot.

"If it is true that the dementors are taking orders only from the Ministry of Magic, and it is also true that two dementors attacked Harry and his cousin a week ago as we have seen, then it follows logically that somebody at the Ministry might have ordered the attacks," Dumbledore said mildly. "Of course, these particular dementors may have been outside of Ministry control-"

"There are no dementors outside Ministry control!" Fudge snapped.

Dumbledore continued, undeterred. "Then undoubtedly the Ministry will be making a full inquiry into why two dementors were so very far from Azkaban and why they attacked without authorization."

"It is not for you to decide what the Ministry of Magic does or does not do, Dumbledore!" Fudge snapped, his face reddening.

"Of course it isn't," Dumbledore assured mildly. "I was merely expressing my confidence that this matter will not go uninvestigated."

"I would remind everybody that the behavior of these dementors, if indeed they are not figments of these two's imagination" he pointed to Harry and Merlin, "is not the subject of this hearing!" Fudge said acidly. "We are here to examine Harry Potter's offenses under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and now Merlin Evans' offenses under the Statute of Secrecy!"

"Of course we are," said Dumbledore calmly, "but the presence of dementors in that alleyway is highly relevant. Clause seven of the Decree states that magic may be used before Muggles in exceptional circumstances, and as those exceptional circumstances include situations that threaten the life of the wizard or witch himself, or witches, wizard, or Muggles present at the time of the-"

"We are familiar with clause seven, thank you very much!" Fudge snarled.

"Of course you are. Then we are in agreement that Harry's attempt and Merlin's use of the Patronus Charm in these circumstances falls precisely into the category of exceptional circumstances it describes?" Dumbledore was looking calmly at Fudge, his expression placid but unmoved.

"If there were dementors, which I doubt-"

"You have seen memory evidence," Dumbledore interrupted. "If you still doubt its truthfulness test the memory for tampering, I'm sure Merlin wouldn't object."

"I-that-not-" Fudge stuttered, fiddling with his parchment. "It's- I want this over with today, Dumbledore!"

"But naturally, you would not care how many times you reviewed evidence, if the alternative was a serious miscarriage of justice," Dumbledore said.

"Serious miscarriage, my hat!" Fudge yelled. "Have you ever bothered to tot up the number of cock-and-bull stories this boy has come out with, Dumbledore, while trying to cover up his flagrant misuse of magic out of school? I suppose you've forgotten the Hover charm he used three years ago-"

Harry finally spoke up. "That wasn't me, it was a house-elf!" he said indignantly.

"YOU SEE?" Fudge roared, gesturing at Harry. "A house-elf! In a Muggle house! I ask you-"

"The house-elf in question is currently in the employ of Hogwarts School," said Dumbledore. "I can summon him here in an instant to give evidence if you wish."

"I-no-I haven't got time to listen to house-elves! Anyway, that's not the only-he blew up his aunt, for God's sake!" Fudge shouted, banging his hand on the desk wildly.

"And you very kindly did not press charges on that occasion, accepting, I presume, that even the best wizards cannot always control their emotions," Dumbledore countered.

"And I haven't even started on what he gets up to at school-"

"- but as the Ministry has no authority to punish Hogwarts students for misdemeanors at school, Harry's behavior there is not relevant to this inquiry," Dumbledore said cooly.

Merlin's head was starting to spin from the rapid back and forth.

"Oho!" said Fudge. "Not our business what he does at school, eh? You think so?"

"The Ministry does not have the power to expel Hogwarts students, Cornelius, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August," said Dumbledore. "Nor does it have the right to confiscate wands until charges have been successfully proven, again, as I reminded you on the night of the second of August. In your admirable haste to ensure that the law is upheld, you appear, inadvertently I am sure, to have overlooked a few laws yourself."

Merlin felt a surge of vicious pride, barely holding back a smirk.

"Laws can be changed," Fudge was saying.

"Of course they can," said Dumbledore. "And you certainly seem to be making many changes, Cornelius. Why, in the few short weeks since I was asked to leave the Wizengamot, it has already become the practice to hold a full criminal trial to deal with a simple matter of underage magic!"

Many wizards shifted uncomfortably, Fudge looking murderous. Merlin hoped they got everything that was coming to them.

"As far as I am aware, however," Dumbledore said, "there is no law yet in pace that says this court's job is to punish Harry for every bit of magic he has ever performed. He has been charged with a specific offense and he and Merlin have presented his defense. All we can do now is to await your verdict."

Steepling his fingers once more, Dummbledore grew quiet as he stared at Fudge. Merlin saw Harry look over at Dumbledore but Dumbledore continued to ignore him. Harry looked the other way, obviously seeking reassurance, and Merlin gave him a small nod. Harry's lips tightened and he stared at his shoes, obvioiusly dreading the verdict as the Wizengamot murmured among themselves.

Finally the murmurs stopped, Madam Bones preparing to speak.

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" she said.

Many hands raised.

"And those in favor of conviction?"

Only a few hands raised, including Fudge's. He looked around, expression morphing into one of anger. Finally he took a breath, lowering his hand.

"Very well, very well...cleared of all charges." Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

"Excellent," said Dumbledore briskly, getting to his feet. With a wave of his wand, his armchair vanished. "Well, I must be getting along. Good day to you all."

And with that he swept out of the room, not looking at Harry or Merlin. Merlin saw Harry's crestfallen look at the departure, obviously wondering why Dumbledore was ignoring him. Merlin stood up, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Ready to go?" he asked kindly.

Harry nodded, getting up as well. They walked to the door, the rustling of the court fading behind them. As they exited, Merlin could see the news finally sinking in, Harry's whole countenance brightening. As the door closed behind them Harry let out a manic laugh.

"Cleared! Of all charges!" he said, grinning at Merlin. "I can't thank you enough. That was brilliant."

Merlin laughed, pulling him to his side in a quick hug. "No need to thank me, Harry. That was a circus in there. Speaking of that," he looked behind him at the door, "we should probably get going. I'm not too keen on running into any of those people again."

"Agreed," said Harry, sounding relieved. They hurried down the hallways, entering the lift just as the first members of the Wizengamot came into view. As they exited the Ministry to clear blue skies Merlin breathed deep, glad that the hearing was over. He tipped his head back, letting the warm afternoon sunlight hit his face. Everything was proceeding as planned; all that was left to do was to secure his position as professor of DADA. But that was a problem for another day. For now, he and Harry made their way back to Grimmauld place, celebrating in their freedom.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The last half of the summer passed by as quickly as the first. Merlin was approved and hired for the job as teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts, and was looking forward to the job. Harry had beamed ecstatically when he told him, looking positively relieved. Merlin went to Gringotts to get out more money for the semester, the goblins greeting him with low bows and murmurs of " _Emrys"_ as he opened his vault, the number "1" carved into the stone. On the last day of holiday the students' booklists finally arrived, and with them two shiny prefect badges for Ron and Hermione. Merlin could tell Harry was a bit put out by not getting one, but put on a brave face for his friends. Mrs. Weasley threw a small party, with Bill, Lupin, Tonks, Shacklebolt, and Mad-Eye Moody joining them as well.

It was evening by the time everyone started to leave, the party winding down. Merlin was heading upstairs to say goodbye to Harry before he would see him again at school when he heard a soft sobbing coming from above. Moving up the staircase he crept toward the drawing room door cautiously.

"Hello?" he said.

The sobs continued. He slowly pushed open the door, wand held aloft. There, in the middle of the room lay Ron, dead, Mrs. Weasley's form cowered against the wall as she sobbed. Eyes widening he pushed the door aside, moving towards the body when he registered that something was off. A prickle of unfamiliar magic reached him from the still form. It didn't feel like Ron. It felt like something else and wasn't Mrs. Weasley up here to deal with the-oh. _The boggart_ , he thought.

"Mrs. Weasley?" he said softly.

_"R-r-riddikulus!"_ Mrs. Weasley sobbed, pointing her shaking wand at Ron's body.

_Crack._

The body turned into Bill's. Mrs. Weasley wailed.

_"R-riddikulus!"_

_Crack._

Mr. Weasley.

"No!" Mrs. Weasley croaked. "No... _riddikulus. Riddikulus. RIDDIKULUS!"_

_Crack._ Harry.  _Crack._ Percy.  _Crack._ Fred and George.

At this point Lupin, Sirius, and Moody came running into the room, taking in the situation with grim faces. Merlin recovered from his shock, stepping forward.

" _Riddikulus!"_ he said firmly. The bodies vanished. In their place stood...Merlin. It was himself as he looked as an old man, with long white hair and wrinkles marring his face. But the eyes. His eyes were full of anguish and rage, burning in their sockets like black holes of madness. He raised his hands and they were covered in blood, blood dripping to the floor and forming rivers, oceans of blood and he smiled a crazed smile and he had caused it, he had killed them all, there was no one left....

"Riddikulus!"he repeated, throwing his power into the spell. The horrifying image disappeared in a puff of smoke, silence filling the room. Merlin took deep breaths, trying to compose himself. His greatest fear. He had no other fears left. Everything he had once feared had already happened. Arthur dying, pain, torment, grief. He had lived through it all. This was the only fear that remained. That his eternal life would drive him mad, cursed to watch everyone die around him. That one day he would take fate into his own hands, and destroy everything and everyone in his pain and anger.

Molly was crying into Lupin's shoulder, pleading with him not to tell Arthur. Moody was looking at him intently, the magical eye seeming to see straight through him and even Sirius was regarding him curiously. Lupin handed Molly a handkerchief and she blew her nose, pulling away.

"So s-stupid," she said tremulously. "Not even able to get rid of a boggart."

"It's not stupid," Merlin said. "It's understandable to be worried about everyone right now."

She nodded. "I'm just s-s-so worried. Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be a miracle if we all come through this..and P-Percy's not talking to us...What if something dreadful happens and we had never m-made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-going to look after Ron and Ginny?"

"Molly, that's enough," said Lupin firmly. "This isn't like last time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a head start, we know what Voldemort's up to-"

Mrs. Weasley squeaked in fright at the name.

"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used to hearing it- look, I can't promise no one's going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better off than we were last time, you weren't in the Order then, you don't understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one..."

"Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius. "He'll come around. It's a matter of time before Voldemort moves into the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going to be begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll be accepting their apology," he added bitterly.

"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died," said Lupin, smiling softly, "what do you think we'd do, let them starve?"

Mrs. Weasley smiled weakly. Merlin stepped forward, putting his hands on her shoulders as he met her eyes.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to your family if I can help it," he said solemnly. "I swear to you."

Mrs. Weasley scanned his eyes before nodding, giving him a small smile. 

"Silly me," she said, dabbing at her eyes. Merlin didn't think it was silly at all.

 

When Merlin got back to his small house on the outskirts of Avalon that night, his mind was whirling. The next day was his first day as a teacher at Hogwarts, and he couldn't stop the excitement that flooded his veins. He tried to remind himself that he was only there to fight against Voldemort, but a small part of him was jumping  at the prospect of actually teaching at Hogwarts again. He had taught Charms for a few years after Hogwarts was founded, but had never dared go back incase someone made the connection. He had been great friends with the founders, helping them to build Hogwarts on what used to be the Isle of the Blessed. By then he had already been over 500 years old, old for a wizard, and had just lost Aithusa. Burdened with grief and feeling destiny release him from her relentless tug he faded into obscurity, presumed dead by the emerging wizarding world who had little knowledge of the old ways. Although he was still recognized among magical creatures as Emrys they never revealed his secret, their allegiance to him and the old ways rather than to wizards. Merlin had made a few connections both wizarding and Muggle over the years, carving out a life somewhere small and remote and moving on when his lifespan became suspicious. However, he had still been cut off from most of the world, forbidden from interfering too much in the lives of humanity. Tired of watching everyone around him die and wars ravage the earth while feeling helpless to do anything he retreated into himself, shunning most social connections. This summer in Grimmauld place had made him feel alive again, connecting with others in a way he hadn't in decades. He finally felt he could  _do_ something instead of watching, and had thrown himself into the endeavor wholeheartedly. His years teaching at Durmstrang and at Hogwarts in the past had been some of his happiest, and he was looking forward to the joy of being a teacher, to shaping young minds and watching them grow.

He packed his belongings, including the book he had assigned for his class, _Practical Defense Against the Dark Arts_. He knew that the students had been getting a jumbled mixture of teachings over the years due to having a new professor each year, and hoped to bring everyone back to practical spells for defense. He knew about the curse on the post that made it so no professor stayed more than a year, but was confident that within a year he could effect positive change.

When he was done packing he looked around the house one more time. It was small, no more than a one bedroom cottage tucked away in the woods next to the lake of Avalon. The stone walls were old and crumbling, held up with magic. The floor of the main room was covered in an eclectic mix of different rugs, blending into each other in a tapestry of clashing colors and patterns. An old couch sat squashed against the wall, fireplace opposite it. The walls were littered with different trinkets from Merlin's travels, hanging on pegs or sitting on oddly placed shelves scattered over the walls and held in place by magic. To the far left, the kitchen consisted of a stove powered by magic, pots and pans erratically hanging from racks above it. A table sat near it with a single chair, papers scattered over the surface and a lone coffee cup making rings of dampness on the parchment. Merlin's bedroom contained a small bed and nightstand, closet in the far wall. Various clothes were stuffed in unceremoniously, modern Muggle attire and wizarding robes intermingling. 

Merlin surveyed his humble abode with a small smile. While had had lived in many places all over the world he was always drawn back to here, where Arthur rested. Arthur had died in his arms on these very shores, thanking him with his last breath. But Merlin knew that he had failed. He and Arthur had never built the world they were destined to, where the lands were united and magic was free. Merlin's terrible choices had led them to this, the penultimate chapter of his failures. It had taken years and decades of reflection to start healing from the guilt and anguish he had felt, and to begin moving forward again. Gwen had lifted the ban on magic after Arthur's death and completed uniting the kingdoms, ultimately fulfilling Arthur's destiny herself. Merlin had stayed by her side until her death, old age taking her from him in sleep. After that there had been no one left, Gaius long gone and the knights he had known dead for years. He had left, weighed down with grief and old regrets.

The land changed, new people came and new kingdoms rose. Camelot fell and ceased to be, new lands being drawn and one king ruling all of Albion. Magic faded from the land, the Old Religion thrust aside for the New. With it came a new kind of magic and magic-users, those who used wands with magical cores and complex spells to direst their weak power. Then came the hatred and fear, as Muggles turned on wizards, slaughtering and burning them in a second Purge that made Merlin dizzy with anger and sadness. To protect themselves, wizards erased any trace of their existence from Muggles' minds, creating two separate societies. 

500 years after Arthur's death, an idea was formed to create schools for witches and wizards. Four inspired wizards and witches approached Merlin, proposing their ideas. He agreed, and they became fast friends. Godric reminded him of Arthur, with his rash bravery and flowing red cloak. Helga reminded him of Gwen, kind and hardworking and honest. Rowena's flowing black hair and sharp tongue reminded him of Morgana, although it was her ambition and cunning that Salazar embodied. They built Hogwarts on the Isle of the Blessed, where it infused the castle with its magic. Protective spells were cast over the castle to hide it from Muggle eyes and anyone who wished it ill, Merlin throwing all his power into the wards. When he had finished, it was impenetrable to all but him.

After his disappearance in the eyes of the wizarding world he traveled the globe, learning everything he could both magical and not. Every so often he would return to his little cottage, drawn by some unknown force. He would spend a little while there in the quiet before moving on, onlyl to return after a few years. The pain of losing Arthur had subsided over 1500 years, barely more than a twinge in Merlin's chest. He couldn't even remember clearly what he looked like, or what Gwen or Gaius or even his mother looked like. 10 years in Camelot was a blip in Merlin's long life, although they had been the most influential. He no longer had a destiny that revolved around him, or the weight of a kingdom resting on his shoulders every day. Those 10 years stood out like a pop of color on the gray background of his life, his happiest years even though they were marked by tragedy. The years since had been hard, Merlin seeing and experiencing untold horrors. He had lost count of how many times he had been killed in one way or another only to wake up gasping a little while later, traumatized and alone. How many wars he had seen, senseless slaughter and cruelty without bounds. It was enough to drive one mad. 

The image the boggart had taken had been haunting him for years, a nagging fear that one day it would just be too much, that he would break. He could raze entire  _countries,_ could kill a hundred men with a snap of his fingers. His power was unlimited, Merlin the very essence of magic itself. The only thing keeping it in check was the chains of fate, the balance of nature urging him to not interfere, to not use his power. He had tried, a few times, to go against it. He had used his power to intervene and stop hundreds from being killed. But magic demands a balance, and soon hundreds more died as Merlin watched in horror and guilt. He never again tried to defy fate, knowing that he would just make it worse. But his chains were metaphorical, only his conscience preventing him from acting. If he were to lose that conscience....Merlin shuddered to think what might happen. 

House in order and suddenly exhausted, Merlin went into his bedroom. Archimedes sat on his perch inside the window, round eyes looking at Merlin reproachfully. Merlin stroked a finger over his feathered head, the owl closing his eyes in enjoyment. Then Merlin opened the window, Archimedes taking off into the night to go hunt. Merlin laid down on his bed, falling asleep quickly to the soft chirping of crickets outside his window as a soft summer breeze ruffled the curtains.


	5. Chapter 5

 When Merlin arrived at Hogwarts the next day the magic of the castle stretched out to meet him, enveloping him in its familiar embrace. He pressed a hand to the stone, feeling it welcome him back with warm tingles of magic against his palm. His own magic was interwoven in these very stones, running through and over the castle with threads of protection. He could feel the castle in the back of his mind like a living thing, his magic settled into every crevice as it pulsed with life. 

He got settled in in his new living quarters, which were attached to his office by a secret door and included a study, a bedroom, and a small bathroom. He was on the first floor, and while the quarters were not spacious he was used to far worse. He unpacked his trunk and took Archimedes to the owlery, taking a moment to enjoy the view. He then wandered the castle until dinner, reacquainting himself with every nook and cranny.

Finally, it was time for the start-of-term feast. Merlin made his way to the great hall, the ceiling an image of the night sky, dark and starless. Candles were floating along the long tables, some of the other professors already taking their seats at the high table. Dumbledore was sitting in his golden chair in the center, wearing starry purple robes and a matching hat. Merlin approached, gesturing to the empty seat on his left.

"Mind if I sit there?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Not at all. How are you finding Hogwarts so far?"

Merlin slid into the chair, resting his arms on the table. "It's beautiful," he replied honestly. 

"That it is. I look forward to working with you more, Professor Evans." His eyes twinkled. "I have a feeling this is going to be a very interesting year."

Merlin nodded. The first students started to file into the hall, talking excitedly amongst themselves and gesturing widely. The last professors took their seats except for Professors McGonagall and Grubbly-Plank, who were in charge of herding the first years into the castle. The toad-faced woman from the hearing sat next to Merlin, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face as she appraised him with cold eyes.

"Merlin Evans, was it?" she questioned. "Surely your parents must have had high hopes for you. I suppose we'll see about that." Her girlish tone undermined her taunting words, Merlin feeling revulsion crawl along his skin.

"Yes, I suppose we will," he said coolly, turning away. He was determined not to give her the time of day if he could help it, squashing the desire to turn her into a real toad.

He saw Harry enter, scanning the staff table as his face fell in disappointment. He saw Merlin and brightened a bit, but then his expression went dark again at the pink witch sitting next to him. Merlin shared the sentiment. Professor Grubbly-Plank reappeared, making her way along the staff table to the end, and the doors to the entrance hall opened seconds later. Minerva McGonagall emerged, carrying the stool with Godric's hat as nervous looking first years trailed after her. The hum of conversation died away as Professor McGonagall placed the stool in front of the hall, the first years forming a line in front of the staff table facing the students. There was a moment of silence, and then the hat twitched, a song spilling from it's ripped mouth.

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted;_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_"Together we will build and teach!"_

_The five good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_And Merlin who was friend to all_

_He helped them to succeed_

_He built this castle up_

_And with his magic sealed the deed._

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name."_

_Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_But Merlin did not offer up_

_Who he would want to teach_

_"I do not care," he said to them,_

_"They all are in your reach."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For four of the five founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the Houses and the founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_For Merlin disappeared one day_

_And never did return_

_And though the founders searched for years_

_They never did discern_

_What happened to their friend of old_

_Who helped them all these years_

_They thought him dead and all did mourn_

_With bitter, bitter, tears._

_The Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders five_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_Merlin told us, Merlin warned us_

_He said "these rifts will be your end,_

_For I've seen love turn to hatred,_

_And watched friend murder friend."_

_So we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within.  
_

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin._

The hat finished and there was a second of silence in the hall before the applause broke out, punctuated with whispers and muttered comments. Merlin felt cold, hands frozen in the motion of clapping before he shook himself and tried to school his expression into one of normalcy, feeling Umbridge watching him. 

"Five founders," Dumbledore noted to his right. "I must say, that's the first time I've heard the hat acknowledge that."

Before Merlin could muster up any sort of reply McGonagall glared the tables into silence, beginning to read the list of first years' names. They were sorted quickly and efficiently, and then Dumbledore stood up to give a speech with arms outstretched and beaming smile in place as if nothing had happened.

"To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands-welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Laughter and applause echoed around the hall as Dumbledore sat back down and the food appeared, making Merlin's stomach rumble. He dug in eagerly, still turning the Hat's words over in his mind.

"You know," Dumbledore mused quietly, "that's the first time I've heard the Hat mention Merlin. Interesting that it does the year his namesake comes to the school."

Merlin swallowed a bite of food heavily. "Coincidence. I wasn't even named after him."

"Hmm." Dumbledore glances sideways at him through his half-moon spectacles. "Yes, a coincidence, I'm sure."

Merlin continued to eat, but he could feel Dumbledore's gaze on him the rest of the meal. When everyone was finished, Dumbledore rose again.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students-and a few of our older students ought to know by now too."

Merlin stifled a laugh.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker," Dumbledore continued, "has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door."

Merlin would bet his entire life savings that no one, not even Hermione Granger, would read that list.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Evans, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Furthermore, Ms. Umbridge will be acting as Hogwart's High Inquisitor." Merlin seethed at that.

There was only a smattering of applause, though Merlin was not offended. These kids had been through a dizzying run of DADA professors, and they probably couldn't care less who was next. He did see Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange panicked looks at the news of Grubbly-Plank, and presumed they didn't know about Hagrid's secret mission to the giants.

Dumbledore was still speaking. "Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-"

Dumbledore broke off, looking at Professor Unbridge inquiringly, who had stood up next to Merlin.

"Hem, hem," she said. Merlin was flabbergasted.  _Seriously?_

After a moment's confused pause Dumbledore sat back down and gave Umbridge his full attention. The other professors looked scandalized, and if looks could kill McGonagall would have murdered Umbridge. 

"Thank you, Headmaster," Umbridge breathed in her simpering voice, "for those kind words of welcome." She cleared her throat again. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" Her smile was more a baring of her teeth, and Merlin was reminded of a pixie. Maybe Umbridge was a pixie, in fact. He'd have to look into it. Nasty creatures. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!" Umbridge continued. Merlin looked around and saw the students looking anything but happy, and had to hold back a strangled laugh. Umbridge didn't even seem to notice. "I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

Merlin disguised his laugh as a cough, seeing many students outright giggling. Umbridge cleared her throat again.  _Hem hem._

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Merlin thought he might fall asleep, and glanced over in time to meet McGonagall's eyes and exchange a significant glance as Umbridge gave another primly " _Hem hem."_

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."

Merlin hated every single word that left her frog-like mouth. From the growing noise in the hall, so did the students. 

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

She sat down. There was light applause, fragmented and stilted, and Merlin barely clapped once before dropping his hands. He wouldn't clap for her, no. Not for the ideals she was spouting, carefully wrapped in flowery language. Talking about going back to tradition, curtailing progress? He'd heard rhetoric like that before, and it never ended well. 

Dumbledore stood again. "Thank you very much, Inquisitor Umbridge, that was most illuminating. Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

Merlin tuned out the next part, still worrying over Umbridge's words. The Ministry was certainly trying to interfere at Hogwarts, and Umbridge was only the tip of the iceberg. It was going to take all of Merlin's skill to make sure they didn't ruin everything he was trying to do. Much as he detested it, it might be time to extend his power a bit, tweak a few things. 

He mulled this over the rest of the night, tossing and turning in his bed and he tried to come up with a solution. He was awake long into the night, only dropping off into a fitful sleep just as the first rays of light peeked over the horizon.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The morning went as well as could be expected, trying to get his morning DADA classes back onto a coherent curriculum. Though he was met by some with suspicion, by the end of the lessons they'd seemed to warm to him even with the lurking presence of Umbridge in the background. For the day, she'd made no comment, only scribbled on her clipboard, but Merlin was sure that a full-on inquisition was soon to happen. He planned to give her nothing. He'd be damned if he let himself be beaten by a simpering pixie-woman from the Ministry whose power didn't even hold a candle to Merlin's.

After lunch, it was finally time for his DADA class with the fifth year Gryffindors and, most importantly, Harry. He watched as the students filed into the room, looking around with an air of curiosity at the new decorations. He'd left most of the walls bare so as not to ruin any possessions with a badly-aimed spell, and there was plush pillows lining the room, the desks divided into two rows so that there was a substantial clear space between them. Harry, Ron, and Hermione settled into desks on the right side, Hermione immediately getting out her textbook, parchment, and a quill. Merlin smiled.

"Wands out and quills away," he instructed, and he saw many faces light up. He stood up, standing in front of the classroom and addressing them. "Hello, if you didn't already know my name is Professor Merlin Evans." He raises a hand. "Yes, that is my name, no it wasn't on purpose." Several students chuckle. "I know you've had quite the disjointed Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum, and it's my hope to remedy that. This class will be mostly practical learning to prepare you for your O.W.L.S and for the world outside these walls. Because I'm not sure how much you've actually learned, we're going to start with basics. It's not because I believe you incapable, but because it never hurts to review. Don't worry, we'll move on to the more interesting stuff quickly." He smiled, and got several answering smiles of relief, including from Harry. "Now, I want you to pair up and find a spot in the room." He waved his hand.

Students immediately stood up and paired off, Ron and Hermione looking at each other and Harry glancing around but not finding a partner. Merlin stepped forwards.

"I think we have an odd number. Harry, why don't you be partners with me? I need someone with experience to demonstrate the spells."

Harry's face smoothed in relief and he nodded vigorously. Merlin positioned them at the front of the classroom, where everyone could see.

"Now, I said we were going to start with basics. The first spell I want us to practice is the Disarming Charm. Expelliarmus." There was a disgruntled murmur from the students, all likely grumbling about how they knew the spell. Merlin raised his hands placatingly. "I know, it seems easy, but how much have you actually practiced this spell? Do you feel that you could use it effectively in the heat of the moment, or block someone from doing it to you?" He let this sink in. "Now, the Disarming Charm actually has many uses. It causes whatever an opponent is holding at the time — usually a wand — to fly high out of their reach. It is also used to intercept or rebound an opponent's spell back at them, while duelling, hence the life-saving effects of the charm. So you see, it's not as simple as one would think. And does anyone know how to block it?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up. Merlin pointed to her.

"A simple Shield Charm, most commonly known as Protego, should block a Disarming Charm," she rattled off.

Merlin nodded. "Perfect. Five points to Gryffindor. Yes, a Shield Charm will counter it. It's one of the most useful spells you can know, as it will block every spell but one. Anyone know what that is?"

Hermione's hand shot up again. "The Killing Curse."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor. There are many different variations of the Shield Charm, and all of them are moderately difficult. But first, let's get Expelliarmus down before we attempt to block it. In your pairs, I want you to take turns disarming each other. Harry and I will demonstrate." He turned to Harry. "Go ahead."

Looking nervous, Harry pointed his wand at Merlin. "Expelliarmus!"

Merlin felt the tug of magic and let it happen, his wand flying out of his hand and into Harry's. He gave him a nod. "Great job. Everyone get what you're supposed to do?"

Everyone nodded, squaring off with their opponents. Merlin smiled. "Begin. I'll be around to help out."

After a moment's pause, the first spells started to fire and wands went flying. Merlin grimaced as a few people went flying as well, and was grateful for the cushions stacked around the edges as the students landed on them harmlessly. He turned to Harry, who held out his wand. 

"Thanks. Now, I hear you're quite the expert at this spell," Merlin said with a wink. "Used it against You-Know-Who himself, huh?"

Harry blinked. "Oh. Yeah."

"Go around and help out anyone that needs it."

Harry brightened. "Really?"

Merlin gestured with a hand. "Really. I think you'd be a great teacher. You have a lot of hands-on experience with many of these spells, and it's easier to have another student teaching others."

Harry had a stunned look on his face, as if he wasn't used to praise. He stammered a bit and then acquiesced, barely concealing the sparkle in his eye as he moved to help a fellow student with their spell. Merlin strode around the room, correcting stances and wand movements as he went, most of the students quickly perfecting the spell. One, however, was still struggling. Merlin walked over, seeing the poor student try to cast the spell but only throwing his partner into the cushions, a crushed look on his face. 

"Neville Longbottom, right?" Merlin interrupted.

Neville nodded, face downcast. "I'm sorry, Professor Evans. I can't seem to get it right."

"No need to apologize. That's what I'm here for." Merlin studied him, felt the slight resistance between wand and owner, the discordance which meant Neville would have a hard time casting spells. "Your wand, it's not yours."

Neville looked up. "What do you mean? Of course it's mine. Sir," he added quickly. 

Merlin shook his head. "The wand chooses the wizard. This wand hasn't chosen you. A family member's, perhaps?"

"It's my grandmother's," Neville muttered.

Merlin nodded sagely. "That explains it. That's why you've been having trouble. Goodness me, how does the school expect you to pass your O.W.L.s with a wand that doesn't work?"

Neville frowned. "It works fine."

"For your grandmother, maybe. Again, the wand chooses the wizard. This wand hasn't chosen you, and so it doesn't work for you. Let me guess, you've struggled with other spells before?"

Neville nodded, eyes sparking with hope. Merlin set a hand on his shoulder. 

"It wasn't your fault. It was the wand. I think you have great potential, given the right tools." He held out his wand. "Here. See if this is any friendlier. Remember, it still won't be as good as your own wand." Though the magic imbued in it should give Neville a helping hand, with Merlin's permission. Merlin's wand wasn't exactly like the other's.

Neville took the wand hesitantly, as if afraid to break it. He looked at Merlin questioningly.

Merlin nodded. "Go ahead. Try to disarm Seamus."

Neville turned to Seamus, wand held out and hand shaking slightly. "Expelliarmus!"

Seamus' wand flew out of his hand and cut a perfect arc through the air, Neville catching it on instinct. He stared at the wand in his hand, stunned, before giving Merlin's back. Merlin made a split-second decision, angry that Neville had been allowed to go all these years without a proper wand. No wonder he thought himself a failure. 

"I'm getting you a new wand," he said. "I'll pay for it. Your grandmother doesn't even have to know."

Neville looked up at him like he'd just said Christmas was coming early, tinged with a hint of fear. "P-professor Evans, I mean, you don't-you don't have to do that," he stammered. 

Merlin squeezed his shoulder. "Nonsense. I'm not having a student in my class without a proper wand. This weekend, I'll take you to Hogsmeade and get you a new wand. How does that sound?"

Neville could only nod furiously for a moment, seemingly stunned speechless. "Thank you," he finally breathed.  

This, Merlin thought. This was why he loved teaching. He could see the potential inside Neville, the brave heart and surprisingly strong magic. Neville could have been the one in the prophecy, if only Tom Riddle had made a different choice. Either way, he still had a destiny, an important one if the strong golden threads surrounding him were any indication. Merlin vowed to help him, to make him into the great wizard he could see underneath. Harry wasn't the only one in need of guidance, it seemed. There were hundreds of students, all unique, all carrying their own destinies and purposes in life. Merlin had forgotten the beauty of being a teacher, of shaping these young lives and watching them grow, and it had taken Neville to remind him. He remembered Neville's parents and had visited his mother in St. Mungo's, doing what he could do ease her suffering. He owes it to her to take care of her son.

Merlin watched the classroom with new eyes, smiling as he saw Harry helping a timid girl, the air of mistrust from some of the Gryffindors lessening. Neville practiced with a new glint in his eye, never faltering even when his spell went wrong. Hermione Granger sniped at Ron Weasley, an undercurrent of fondness throughout, and mastered a powerful Protego charm without batting an eye. The students listened intently to Merlin ramble about magical theory, knowing they would get to practice, and he could tell that they were warming to him. Umbridge scowled in the corner, furiously scribbling notes on her clipboard, but Merlin couldn't care less. He looked around the room, seeing the students determinedly practicing their spells, growing better than the minute, and thought  _just try them. They're more capable than you know._

* * *

The week passed in a blur of classes. Umbridge continued to stay silent, still scribbling on her clipboard, but so far nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and she kept her toad-like mouth shut. Ron Weasley had apparently made Keeper of the Gryffindor team, and while Harry seemed to be on edge due to the swirling rumors and suspicion at school he was in a better mood than Merlin had seen him most of the summer. On Saturday, Merlin took Neville to Hogsmeade, where he got a new wand, the elation on his face infectious as he immediately mastered three spells he'd never been able to. Merlin had lied, slightly, when he said it was all the wand's fault. Neville's problem was also a lack of confidence. But with a new wand, and someone telling him that he wasn't a failure, Neville seemed to blossom, gaining a self-confidence he'd likely never had before.

The students were learning rapidly, to Umbridge's obvious disapproval, and Merlin knew it was because the ministry feared Dumbledore was creating some sort of personal army with his students. The idea was absurd. Children? But, then again, they would make a good army, Merlin mused. They were driven by a strange inner fire, one sparked by Harry. Though there were a few people who obviously distrusted Harry, many more had declared their outspoken support for him and turned to him for help during DADA classes. Harry was a great teacher, with a knack for the practical side of spells, and Merlin debated approaching him about a career as a professor. 

Around the second week, Umbridge stepped up her game, starting to question teachers. Merlin had already heard whispered stories of how McGonagall had handled it, and vowed not to give Umbridge an inch. She had no idea who she was really dealing with. 

"So, Professor Evans, it seems you've taken a unique approach to the class," Umbridge said sweetly, voice laced with danger.

Merlin faked befuddlement, barely sparing her a glance as he adjusted someone's wand movement. "Whatever do you mean?" he responded innocently. 

"Well, the Ministry-approved curriculum would hardly have students actually attempting spells," Umbridge simpered. "Surely theory is enough?"

"Oh no," Merlin said mildly. "Not at all. Research has shown that practicing spells is far more effective in preparing students for their O.W.L.s than simply reading theory. You'll find that I'm following the latest and most well-supported curriculum. Although, maybe you haven't heard of it?" He smiled sweetly at Umbridge. "I know the Ministry has little involvement in school affairs."

There was the distinct sound of someone choking, and a badly-concealed silence fell over the room. Umbridge cleared her throat, beady eyes boring into Merlin's. "Well, the Ministry is certainly becoming more involved in school affairs. There are many who have become quite concerned about the state of teaching here."

Merlin nodded serenely, barely repressing laughter. "Oh, I'm sure."

Umbridge seemed to be waiting for him to say something else, and when he didn't she blinked, looking off-balance. "Well." She cleared her throat. "Yes." She fell silent and furiously scribbled something down on her clipboard, Merlin turning his back and seeing the students all pretend they hadn't been listening. He smirked slightly.

"Where were we? Ah, stupefy."

* * *

Merlin wandered the halls, lit only by the flames flickering in the braziers along the walls. There was something peaceful about Hogwarts at night, without the bustle of students and the bright light of day, only his footsteps making soft thuds on the stone floor. All was quiet, portraits snoozing in their frames and even Peeves silent, off doing who-knows-what on the other side of the castle. A few ghosts passed Merlin, nodding as they drifted past, but no one disturbed his nighttime wandering. The magic of the castle hummed all around him, wrapping him in a familiar embrace that soothed the restlessness in his soul. 

He found himself on the seventh floor, walking back and forth in front of the blank wall he knew to be much more. After a third pass, a door appeared, its gleaming outline tarnished with age. Merlin fingered the handle softly before pushing it open, the sight taking his breath away after so many years. Inside was considerably bigger than possible, with vaulted ceilings curving over the length of the room and paned glass windows stretching high on the opposite wall, stars twinkling in the distance. Bookcases lined the walls, filled with too many books to number, the smell of parchment and binding heavy in Merlin's nose. Tables were filled with equipment, a likeness of Gaius' workshop, instruments and potion bottles scattered across the surface. Trinkets and magical objects glittered from more shelves, catching the light thrown from blue orbs that bobbed gently in the air above, swirling with smears of white like sea-foam.

Merlin exhaled, feeling himself relax. He had built this room, the room of requirement, back when he had helped found Hogwarts. The other forms that the room could take were free for anyone to use but this, this room was his. No one would ever find it, he made sure of that. This was his own personal home away from home, a remembrance of Camelot and a place to work away from prying eyes. The room would give him whatever he needed. It was the only place he felt truly safe. 

Letting his defenses drop, Merlin set his magic free, feeling it wind around the room like a cat settling in, purring as it stroked over the familiar objects and came up against the magic of the room, stretching out to meet it. He knew his eyes were burning golden, whole being suffused with the light of his magic. It was hard, nowadays, to keep his magic in. He was magic itself, the very earth under his feet, the wind in his hair. His magic yearned to run free, to tangle with the earth's magic and become one, until there was nothing left of Merlin at all. It was a struggle to stay human, to stay  _himself._ The older he got, the more he feared he wasn't alive at all. That one day, there would be nothing left of him except magic, untamed and untouchable. Magic without conscience, without thought. It was a terrifying notion.

For now, he pushed it out of his mind, settling into a chair at his desk and letting his magic do what it wanted. It looped around, snagging books off the shelf and flipping them open to pages as Merlin read, researching and thinking as the hours slipped by. Finally, exhausted and head buzzing with too many thoughts, Merlin slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him and watching as it shrank to nothingness, only bare stone left behind. Then he continued walking, up a spiral staircase, until he found himself nearing the top of one of the towers. He stopped at a lone portrait on the wall, the stone turrets in the background unrecognizable to anyone but him. An old man was snoozing in the corner, white hair spilling around his face. Merlin tapped the side of the frame, and the figure awoke with a jerk, blinking sleepily at him.

The figure smiled, smoothing its long beard. "Merlin! How long has it been? Centuries?"

Merlin smirked slightly. "A millenium. Losing track of time, old man?"

"Well, when you're stuck in this painting all day with naught but irritating students for company, you try telling time," the figure grumbled. "Besides, you're older than me."

"True." Merlin tapped the side of his nose. "You're me a thousand years ago, or at least the me that I taught to you."

The Merlin in the painting gave him a long look. "Something's troubling you."

"How'd you know?"

"I'm you, remember? You can't lie to yourself."

"Can't I, though?" Merlin murmured. He shook his head. "Do you know? What's going on?"

"You'll have to be a little more specific."

"Voldemort." Painting-Merlin sat up a little straighter at that. 

"Tom Riddle? He's back?"

Merlin nodded. "I'm afraid so. And I want-" His fists clenched. "I need to do something, but I don't know what. Last time I interfered..." He shuddered, falling silent. Painting-Merlin watched him, expression contemplative. Being isolated as he was, he probably hadn't heard much of the events of the centuries, probably had little to no idea what Merlin was talking about. Merlin suddenly wondered why he came. But the painting was the only person he can talk to openly. Gods, Merlin must be lonely, to talk to himself. Not even himself. A painting of him from a thousand years ago that he'd imbued with his mannerisms and memories, nothing more. 

Merlin turned to leave, frustrated with himself.

"Wait."

He paused, head turned slightly. 

"Do you think this could be it?" The painting's voice sounded small, uncertain.

"Could be what?"

The painting hesitated. "Albion's greatest need. Arthur's resurrection. Do you think-do you think he'll return?"

Merlin felt the familiar pain lance his heart and looked away, shoving it down deep inside. 

"No," he said, voice cold and flat. "Arthur isn't coming back. Ever." He left without another word, something painful twisting inside and eyes sparking with gold.

 


	7. Chapter 7

As time passed, Merlin could tell that Voldemort's connection to Harry was growing stronger. He could sense the part of Voldemort's soul inside Harry, like a cancer, long fingers slipping into Harry's mind and clouding his thoughts. Harry seemed more irritable, on edge, and more often than not Merlin caught him rubbing his scar curiously. Something would have to be done, before Voldemort realized the connection or Harry did something rash. Harry was probably already wondering if he was going mad. 

Umbridge continued to be an annoyance, interrupting his lessons every two seconds to comment or criticize or simper some falsely-sweet remark that made Merlin grit his teeth painfully. The temptation to turn her into a toad grew every day, and Merlin could barely restrain his magic from lashing out and bringing her down a notch or two. 

"But surely they don't need to  _actually_ perform such a spell," Umbridge was saying. "Why, it's almost as if you're encouraging violence in children."

Merlin whirled on her, feeling his magic spark on his fingertips. "I dare say it's not  _me_ who's encouraging violence," he said tightly, eye flashing.

Umbridge looked taken aback for a moment before she composed herself, smiling brightly. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Don't you?" Merlin replied simply, voice dripping with falseness. He turned around, completely ignoring Umbridge, his students all staring at him with open mouths. Merlin felt his mouth twitch as he gave them a significant look, clearing his throat. Immediately they all jumped, pretending to be thoroughly immersed in practicing their spells. Merlin heard the furious scratching of Umbridge's quill but didn't turn, electing to completely ignore her the rest of the lesson.  _Damn her,_ he thought. She'd almost made him lose his temper, and that could lose him his job.

Merlin found himself in McGonagall's office between lectures, munching on a biscuit as he glared off into space. He shoved the biscuit tin back towards McGonagall and she took one, taking a bite as she scrutinized him.

"That  _woman,"_ Merlin growled. "She's going to  _encourage_ _me to violence_ one day."

McGonagall nodded serenely, taking a sip of milk. Maybe it was a cat thing, Merlin mused.

"I wouldn't let anyone hear you say that," she said mildly.

Merlin sighed. "Of course not. I'm not an idiot."

"Hmm." McGonagall only raised an eyebrow at him. Good Gods, she was like the female version of Gaius.

"Well, one thing's for certain, I'm not going to give in to her," Merlin proclaimed. "She can't do anything about the way I teach."

McGonagall pushed the biscuit tin towards him again. "I'm afraid you may be wrong, Professor Evans. There's no telling what that woman will do."

Merlin sighed again. "Well, I guess time will tell." He picked up another biscuit, shoving it into his mouth as he resumed his glare at the wall.

* * *

The next day, McGonagall's fears came true. Merlin came to a stop in the hall, staring at the new notice tacked up as the students gathered around it muttered frantically.

BY ORDER OF

**The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**

All classes shall hereby refrain from the teaching and practice of non-approved spells.

These spells are defined as those that encourage violence, mischief, and disorder. 

Permission to practice any spell must be sought from the High Inquisitor.

No practicing of spells may commence without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have practiced a spell that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. Faculty members who teach or encourage the use of such spells will be removed.

_The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four._

 

Merlin felt white-hot rage flow over him, his hands clenching into fists and magic sparking dangerously. How  _dare_ she do this! He had to take several deep breaths to force his magic down, knowing his eyes were bound to give him away. He turned on his heel and swept away, heading straight for Umbridge's office.

A hand landed on his arm and his magic flared, reacting instinctively to the threat. There was a gasp and Merlin whirled to see McGonagall retract her hand as if she'd been shocked; which was, Merlin realized, exactly what had happened.

He felt his magic retreat, guilt and fear washing over him. What was happening? He usually had such tight control on his magic, and yet he'd almost given himself away at the slightest provocation.

"Professor Evans," McGonagall said, eyeing him strangely. "You've heard, I presume?"

Merlin nodded, mouth tightening into a thin line. 

"And I suppose you're headed to her to...do what?" She hissed. "Lose your job? Do you think your students will be better off without you at all?"

Merlin flushed, ducking his head in shame. She was right. He was being an idiot, ready to storm into Umbridge's office in a righteous rage. He'd thought he'd long learned to think things through, but apparently not. He straightened, composing himself.

"I'm going to inquire about what spells are approved," he said loudly, for whoever was listening in. "Would you like to join me?"

McGonagall's eyes glinted. "Yes, I think I will."

* * *

By the time they left Umbridge's office Merlin was simmering with anger, fists clenched from the effort of maintaining his calm facade. He hadn't had to try that hard to mask his emotions since he'd been a servant in Uther's court, and the sheer injustice of what Umbridge and the Ministry were trying to do rankled like a thorn in his side. She had approved almost all of the Transfiguration spells for McGonagall but almost none of the DADA ones for Merlin, insinuating that they were 'dangerous' and 'encouraged violence.' She'd told him to stick to theory, which meant none of the students would be remotely prepared for their O.W.L.s and, more importantly, for the real world.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," McGonagall said, as they prepared to part ways in the hallway.

Merlin nodded, taking a deep breath. "I appreciate that. Well, I'm off to totally rearrange my lesson plan." He attempted a smile.

McGonagall gave him a knowing look. "If you ever want to stop by my office..."

"I'll be sure to do that. Thank you."

With a nod McGonagall swept away, leaving Merlin feeling frustrated and out of sorts. His magic was roiling, bubbling just beneath the surface and threatening to break free. It was probably a combination of the sheer amount of magic concentrated in Hogwarts and the nearing Samhain that was making his magic so uncontrollable, and he knew that he needed to do something about it before it overwhelmed him. 

Quickly, Merlin headed towards the seventh floor, finding the blank wall and pacing back and forth in front of it. The door appeared and he wrenched it open, stepping inside and locking it behind him. The room was ringed with his own magical shields and soundproofing, so he knew he was safe as he pulled all his magic to the surface and slammed his hand down on the floor with a frustrated scream, letting it go in a powerful surge that made the walls ripple and shake and all the objects in the room crash to the floor in a cacophony of sound.

Merlin heaved for breath, slumping as the tension drained out of him. It had gotten worse, with the balance of the world so fractured. Every year, it seemed that his magic grew, and he wondered if there was ever a limit, if there would come a time when the magic finally overpowered him. It was getting harder and harder to restrain his magic, especially in such a place as Hogwarts, where the whole castle was infused with his magic. It scared him, the feeling of being out of control. One slip, and he could destroy a whole city in the blink of an eye. He could raze Hogwarts to the ground. The only thing keeping the vast amounts of power he held in check was his tight hold on it, his constant vigilance. If he stopped, for even an instant...

No. It wouldn't come to that. He would manage, as he always had. He was just feeling frustrated by his own inability to do anything about Umbridge, and the entire problem of Voldemort and Harry and everything that came with that. This would pass, as most things did. After all, this was just a blip in his lifespan. He had certainly endured worse.

Sighing, he got to his feet, starting to pick up the fallen objects by hand. When the room was tidy and his magic died down to a low simmer he left the room, striding down the hallway as students passed by for their first class of the day. Right, he'd completely missed breakfast. The rumble in his stomach made him scowl, returning quickly to his office to grab a scone from the tin under his desk before turning to the issue at hand. He had a free period before his first class arrived, and he used it to work on a way around Umbridge's ridiculous edict, going through everything from actually turning Umbridge into a toad to going along with it and simply teaching theory. By the time his class arrived he had still not come up with a solution, but he at least felt better than before. He had faced worse. One way or another, things would work out. They had to.


End file.
